


a study in biology

by freloux



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Roleplay, Sloppy Seconds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2019-02-28 12:55:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13271886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freloux/pseuds/freloux
Summary: This really isn't doing great things for her teaching career. At least it's doing great things for her sex life.





	a study in biology

Clara is dripping again. It slides out thick and clingy, some of it ending up on her already soaked underwear, some of it moving down farther and turning the insides of her thighs sticky. Distracting enough, and a hot contrast to the autumn chill she's standing in.

She could go and clean herself up.

She could - but she's got a much better idea. Clara murmurs a fumbled explanation, some convincing reason for why she's decided not to mind the students during their break. She tries not to walk too quickly, too eagerly, as she heads back inside even though she knows what she's going to get into.

It's easy enough to find him - he's here researching some gravitational disturbance that he apparently detected and has arranged gadgets and gizmos in an empty classroom so he can do his detecting in peace without inquisitve pudding-brains around to pry. The Doctor had disguised himself somewhat for this project. Tweedy stereotypical jacket - the kind with patches at the elbows - and nerdy glasses that make him look every bit the absentminded visiting teacher. "From where?" she had asked him, wondering what his excuse would be this time. "Up north," he had responded cryptically. (Lots of planets have a north, after all.)

Of course, Clara still knows it's him, but it's a little exciting, isn't it, to pretend for a moment that he's someone else. They do this sometimes, mostly because it just seems like a natural extension of what usually happens when they're off travelling. Where they go native, assuming the roles established by whatever place they've landed in.

She knocks on the door to the classroom where he's set up. It honestly looks like one of the rooms in the TARDIS that he likes to spend so much time in. The one where he's got all these chalkboards and charts and graphs, every one of them covered with strange symbols that she's never been able to decipher. Honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if it was from that room. Clara knows how much he likes to carry a remnant of home with him wherever he goes.

The Doctor turns at the sound of the noise. He'd been writing on one of the many chalkboards, but now he pauses, sets down the chalk, and dusts off his hands. "Why hello, Miss Oswald. Is there something you needed?" he asks, tone brusk as he takes off his jacket and hangs it off the corner of the chalkboard he'd been using. It makes her wonder what he'd been like at school. He always looks older to her - had he been that way back then? Every one of his motions considered carefully before it's carried out. Clara hadn't been a bad student, really, just more absorbed in books than in people. But the way he looks at her, like he's following this script, too, makes her feel like she's been called in. It might be the glasses, but it's also the way he carries himself: removed, aloof. Time to proceed to the next thing. Not so different from the way he usually is, then.

Clara closes the door behind her. A separation between her real life and the existence she has with him. Another escape. Like some kind of a rip in the fabric of space and time, that moment of connection where the two of them collide and create a new, yawning expanse. When she locks the door, it's a click, an air of finality. The way she always ends up choosing him.

She leans against his desk, bracing her hands on the smooth wooden surface. "I did," Clara says, confident despite her quivering anticipation. The Doctor steps closer and kneels down to take off her shoes. Strong, capable hands cradling her foot, her heel. Kissing her calves. He's moving so slowly - standing back up now to take off her skirt - that Clara knows the break has passed and people will start to wonder. "Because I don't think we quite finished our conversation about gravitational force," she explains.

"Didn't we," the Doctor says, pausing about halfway through unbuttoning her blouse. It's going to be so obvious, isn't it. Hair all mussed up, lipstick smeared off. Hickeys all over her chest, her neck - and that's just from when they did this before. Which was this morning. They've really not been careful and she's starting to run out of collared blouses. This really isn't doing great things for her teaching career. At least it's doing great things for her sex life. She imagines she can still feel the echoing remnants of that previous orgasm. How it had been like a shockwave, maybe a gravitational pull of its own. Clara had been so outside of herself she'd ended up just begging. His hand pulling her hair as he got her bent over the desk.

He abruptly picks her up, startling her out of those memories but not enough that she doesn't still feel wanting, heat prickling over her skin. When he sets her roughly on the desk, Clara gives a little squeak of surprise. "Then perhaps you weren't paying attention," he continues.

"No, perhaps not - " Clara stops in the middle of her thought because more of his come has just slipped out of her, dripping slow. She knows he can feel it - how her body is shaking now with desire, how she's getting even wetter, all because of him. Especially since he's standing between her legs now, close but not nearly close enough. From this proximity she can run her fingers up his arms, feeling his pulse jumping under his skin.

"I've been - it's -" Clara tries to say. Each of her attempts to speak coherently is lost because he's started kissing her. Purposeful yet meandering. Taking his time to discover and rediscover how she likes to be kissed. And she lets him because it feels so good, although she knows that the break has definitely passed by now.

"Yes, Miss Oswald?" he asks, kissing along the bruises he left at her neck, between her breasts.

She sighs when he finishes unbuttoning her blouse and skims his hands up and down her ribs, down to her waist. "I've been dripping. All day," she confesses quietly.

He's pressed so close to her now that she can feel his cock twitch inside his trousers. "Really." He reaches his hand down to find her underwear wet, completely ruined. "Perhaps we should do something about that," he continues, moving her underwear down her thighs and out of the way.

The metallic noise of his zipper, followed by the soft fabric noise of trousers and pants removed, sounds so very loud in the empty classroom. They're probably looking for her right now. The two of them could be caught at any moment. But it's a bit difficult to care about that.

"Mm - hmmmpf," Clara huffs in agreement, unable to say real words as he holds onto her and lets her slide down onto him. She's always weirdly proud of herself when they do this. That as tiny as she is she's able to take it, all of it.

She wraps her arms around his neck. Her thighs around his waist supported by those strong, capable hands. "We've - got to be quick - " Clara pants, feeling like each breath, each word, is knocked out of her with every thrust. "They think that I - that I've started smoking - because I take so many breaks -"

"Then, Miss Oswald, you should be very quiet," the Doctor says, admonishing. "So that no one finds out what you've really been doing."

And Clara tries, she really tries. But at this point she's really just holding on for dear life as he angles up into her smoothly. She's got so much of his come still inside her that she just feels so full. It makes her whimper. Another breathy little sigh because now he's picked up the pace, moving inside her with even strokes that rub her raw again. She hears a slightly squishy squelching noise when he thrusts into her, a sound that repeats over and over and she's going to -

Clara tells him this in warning, but he keeps going. She whines and shivers. Which is when he changes the rhythm, hitting deep up into her. It's this final motion that does it - Clara clenches fiercely around him. She attempts to breathe it out, but she's so shaky now. The sound of his hearts against her chest changes, skipping and stuttering like a record scratch when he releases inside her.

It's going to be so obvious. Clara's dripping again already. She really should go and clean up now.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for @thg99.


End file.
